Random RumBelle
by callafallon
Summary: In honor of Once's return, these are a collection of drabbles, one-shots, and fics. All About RumBelle. These have been posted before on my blog, but are new to . (Rating is to be careful, most fics will be T but some are M)
1. Brand New Day

_In Hat Trick, Mr. Gold said that there was nothing that Regina had that he wanted. That wasn't exactly true. _

Belle Gold had long ago given up on trying to surprise her husband. The man was always three steps ahead of her. It made shopping for Christmas or anniversary gifts impossible since he would be able to tell her what was in the box before even looking at it. If the fact that her husband was some type of mastermind was her biggest problem with him then she had no reason to complain, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't complain about it in his presence now and then. Just to keep him on his toes.

"What is that face for?" he asked about her pout as she walked into his office

"I went to go pick up your birthday present, only to discover that you'd already paid for it. And that you'd asked the clerk to give me this," she held up a golden charm bracelet. "Bobby. You can't get me things on your birthday."

"Well then, the bracelet isn't for my birthday. It's just a happy Tuesday gift."

Belle tried to look ferocious as she glared at him, but he only laughed. "Pout all you want, dearie. It makes it easier to kiss you when your lips are already pursed." Then, to demonstrate, he did just that.

"Bobby," she protested a she pulled away, "you can't just kiss me in the middle of your office. What if someone walked in?"

"Then they'd be subject to the sight of a man madly in love with his wife. Although I suppose that is a rarity in this town." It was true, that for a long time everyone in Storybrooke had seemed so miserable. Everyone except the Gold's. But things were getting better. Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan had gotten off to a rough start, but things were better now. They were engaged and planning to marry in the fall. The former Mrs. Nolan was dating the school soccer coach. And Belle was sure that something was going on between Ruby and Archie Hopper from the way that his dog would always run to the diner when it dug out of Hopper's yard.

Everything had been on an upswing since Emma Swan came to town. It wasn't perfect. The poor Sheriff had died and Sydney Glass had that nervous breakdown. And then the Mayor went missing. But now that her husband was the Mayor things were much better. Tourism was way up, more people were moving to town, and everyone just seemed happier. It was as if a dark cloud has moved away from over them, or that a curse had been lifted.

"Did you at least like your gift?" Belle asked.

"Very much," he said, pulling the collection of illustrations from his desk drawer. "Where did you find it?"

"I remember seeing in in India when I was working on a research project there for one of my Professors." Belle had double majored in archeology and literature, specializing in the study of how various fairy tales and myths crossed cultural and geographic boundaries. She took the volume from his hands and carefully turned the pages, looking for the one that she remembered even after all this time.

"See," she said showing it to him, "Don't you think it's a little creepy?"

Gold shrugged. "I suppose the girl looks quite like you, but I'm not sure that he looks like me. He's green and yellow."

Belle rolled her eyes. "But other than that. He has your nose. Your chin. It's just...don't you think it's very you?"

"I suppose. Although I don't go running around in leather pants."

"Unfortunately," she sighed, but quickly was giggling when her husband started nuzzling the ticklish spot on the side of her neck. She pulled away from him, reluctantly. They had to have a serious talk at some point.

"Robert," she said, and he worried because she never used his full name, "Are you happy?"

"Of course I am. Why would you even ask that?"

"I just...is there anything you would change? Or anything else you want? I mean, if you could have anything in the world you wanted...would you choose this life?"

"Oh, yes. Without a doubt."

A few weeks earlier he'd been given that chance. Regina had come to him, worried about Emma Swan's appearance and fretting about the curse falling apart. He'd been unconcerned, too busy studying maps and globes to decide where to go looking for Baelfire. He told her that he would not assist her in stopping Miss Swan, she had nothing that he wanted.

"I have something," she said, desperately. And then went pale, as if she regretted it. But it was too late, and so she played the only card she had remaining.

Belle.

"I can give her to you," Regina promised, "I have enough magic remaining that I can rewrite her story. She doesn't have any memories here, nobody knows her. Just tell me how you want her? Submissive? Compliant? Sexy? Madly in love with you? I can make it happen, just help me keep the curse in place."

He agreed to the deal instantly. "I want her to be...I want her to be Belle. Herself. Brave. Smart. Kind."

"Your maid?" Regina offered.

"My wife," he corrected. Yes. They would be equals. "And she has traveled the world before we married. Studied art and literature. She's a scholar." The life she wanted in the old world. He could give it to her now, the memories of it at least.

"Anything else," Regina said, with a cruel grin. "I mean, this is your chance to make her into anything you wish. I had so much fun creating Graham in this world. Should we give your little Belle an oral fixation? An exhibitionist?"

The look in his eye was pure rage and Regina dropped her teasing. It was a simple spell and then it was done. The unnamed girl in the asylum was gone and replaced by Belle Gold, who was looking around, confused by her surroundings.

"So," Regina said, "How are you going to make sure that the curse stays in place?"

Rumplestiltskin pulled the blade from his jacket, a small dagger that he used for protection. She hadn't even seen it coming when he sliced her neck. But understanding filled her eyes as she bled out. He always kept his deals, although they rarely took the form you expected. With the caster dead the curse would stay in place, even as pieces of it fell apart.

He called Dove to hide dispose of the body and once that was done, called on Emma Swan with news of the underground asylum. Emma hadn't realized that Gold was married, or that his wife had been missing for months, but everyone else in town seemed to know the story. Except Henry, but with Regina missing (probably run away after realizing Gold had found her secret) the boy was living with his birthmother, and talk of curses were less important than they had been before. Rumplestiltskin had written out his perfect world, and now Belle was asking if he would change it?

Mayor Gold took his nervous wife's hands in his own. "Belle, dearie, this is everything I ever wanted. The town fears me. My wife loves me. I wouldn't change a bit of it for all the gold in the world."

She frowned, and then pulled his hands towards her abdomen. "I hope that isn't true. Because things are changing. I'm pregnant."

He couldn't form words and Belle became nervous. "I know we never discussed it. But, please try to be happy. Please try to at least pretend that..."

Her words were cut off as he kissed her. A baby. A family. Now he just needed to wait to narrow down where Bae was and use his favor with Emma Swan to send her to collect the boy. They would be a family. The four of them. It was more than the old monster deserved but he wouldn't question his luck.

"You're happy?" Belle asked.

"Thrilled."

She chuckled, "Well, I guess I finally was able to surprise you."

"Belle, love, you're a constant surprise to me."


	2. Defense

_Rumbelle mentions, Character Death. Spoilers based on scene from the new season promo. _

_Belle asked Gold not to give into his hate for Regina, but she never said anything about taking it on herself._

Regina woke up hogtied on the floor of a room she'd never been in before but recognized immediately from the crime scene photographs from the beating of Moe French. "Rumplestiltskin," she said, her voice loud but with more annoyance than anger. She wasn't afraid. No, never afraid. Not of the imp. She was well protected from his magic, the agreement with the fairies had assured that.

"Rumplestiltskin" she said again, "I didn't think that you had it in you to make a move at me. I'll enjoy taking it out on your girl. She has the most lovely screams. But I'm sure you already know that."

She felt the knife at her throat before she saw who held it. "He prefers my moans."

"Sending you to do his dirty work? Well, he always was a coward."

Belle chuckled. "You don't have a clue, do you?" Belle stood up, jamming her leather boot into Regina's abdomen, knocking the breath from her. Before she could catch it Belle shifted the boot to her windpipe. Just before she lost consciousness she removed her foot.

"Why do you think you're still alive?" Belle asked, bending over to drive the knife into Regina's hand when she didn't answer right away. "Answer me, Your Highness."

"Weak," she stuttered.

"Louder."

"Weak. He's too weak to get rid of me."

"That's where you're wrong. He isn't weak at all. He's quite strong. Getting stronger each day. But I wouldn't expect you to understand what I'm talking about." No, she would never understand the war within Rumplestilstkin. His rage was fueled by love, the desire to protect the few people who were close to him. But rage could not be contained, and Belle knew that if he allowed it to take hold he would be consumed by it completely. She had made him promise not to go after Regina, and he'd managed to keep that promise.

But it had not been easy.

Belle had hoped that given time he would be able to let go of his anger. She'd believed that with each kiss she gave him and each night they shared that the good memories would supplant the bad. Instead, these joys only made him more aware of what had been taken from him. The passage of time hadn't made him any less wounded by the sight of her scars. Nor had it prevent3ed his nightmares, dreams that he refused to share with her but which caused him to reach for her in the night and cling like a drowning man to a life vest.

Keeping his promise to Belle was killing him. It was tearing apart his mind and soul.

"You can't kill me," Regina said, "You don't have it in you, little girl. Your heart is too pure."

"Pure enough that I can destroy a little part of it without too many problems." Belle brought the knife down to Regina's chest, but it wasn't as easy as it appeared in films. The bones and muscles did not easily give way to the blade and Belle had to struggle to complete the job. At the end her hands were covered with blood and her hands nicked from where she'd harmed herself in the frenzy.

It was done now.

He would be angry with her. Of course he would. But it wouldn't matter. He was safe now. The hatred would never consume him now. Her own soul felt curiously unchanged by the event. Murder shouldn't feel like such a relief. Maybe this was really self-defense. Her killing to save the small shreds of Rumplestiltskin's soul that still remained.


	3. Crush

_Henry has a crush on Belle._

Rumplestiltskin doesn't mind that Henry Swan has a crush on Belle. If anything, he takes it as a compliment. The Princeling the third smartest person in town, behind Belle and himself, and so it was quite flattering that he'd realize she was so perfect.

What does bother him, and very much, is that Belle doesn't simply laugh in the boy's face. That might be cruel. Maybe she could just refuse to speak to him. Or slam the door when he came around. Or just have a long talk with him about how she belongs to Rumplestiltskin. But she does none of those things. She lights up when she sees the boy and answers all of his stupid questions and shares books with him.

Henry makes Belle a friendship bracelet. A poor bedraggled creation with frayed bits of green and pink string messily braided together. It is a monstrosity. Especially compared to the many bracelets of pure gold that he's spun for her. And yet it is that stupid green and pink thing she wore everyday instead of his pieces.

"Did you have a nice lunch with Henry?" he growls one afternoon.

"Oh, it was quite nice. Look, he made me a bird feeder in art class." She holds up a dilapidated structure held together with popsicle sticks and tape.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I don't know? Put it in the yard, I suppose."

"Under the yard, maybe. I just don't understand why you encourage him?"

Belle quirks her head to the side, confused. "Henry? I like him. And besides…well, it's silly."

"And since when has silly stopped you from telling me something?"

She looks down, pulling loose one of the threads from Henry's bracelet. "I've never been around little boys. I had no brothers or cousins. And they started training them for battle at such young ages that there were none in the castle."

The bracelet finally snapped and she poutsat it. "I worry that he won't like me."

"Because you broke his gift?"

"Not Henry. Baelfire."

It suddenly clicks. "And that's why you've been spending so much time with Henry. To try and practice?"

"It's silly."

Rumplestiltskin walks to her side and kisses her softly. "It is quite silly. The idea that someone, anyone, wouldn't adore you is ridiculous."


	4. Birthday

He knew that Belle had put a lot of effort into celebrating his birthday. It wasn't that Rumplestiltskin didn't appreciate her hard work, dinner had been lovely and he was quite fond of the leather briefcase that she had gotten him. But the truth was that what he really wanted for his birthday was to rip off the ridiculously tiny panties he'd seen her put on earlier that evening and devour her like a piece of cake.

As she fumbled with the keys to the front door her was pressing kisses along her neck, finding that spot that caused her to shiver. "Do we have any ice cream, dearie?"

"Of course. Wouldn't be much of a birthday party without ice cream and cake."

"Don't much feel like cake," he purred. "Would rather just have the ice cream. On your chest. Waiting as your body makes it melt and it pools down your stomach."

"That sounds messy."

"I'll clean it all up," he promised, nipping where his tongue had been before.

Belle turned in his arms, kissing him passionately. "Do you love me?"

"Always," he promised.

"Just remember you said that in a few moments." Belle opened the front door to reveal all their friends (well, all her friends, and all the people who wanted to have a catered dinner on Mr. Gold's dime) shouting surprise.


	5. Man and Wife

Nobody wanted to think about the sex life of Mr. Gold. He was an attractive man, sure, but he was also cruel and, more importantly, constantly alone. The fact that he was also Rumplestiltskin made any romantic thoughts involving him impossible. At least, they should be impossible. But the way that he casually walked through town with his hands always touching some part of his beautiful, young, companion and the way he would stare at her with undisguised lust before whispering something in her ear that would cause her to blush made it impossible to not at least consider what they did behind closed doors.

"I bet it's some weird dog collar master/slave thing," Ruby said, while downing a shot. It was their weekly girls night out- her, Snow, Emma, and Ella.

Ella covered her ears with her hands. "Oh, God, I don't even want to think about that. Gross."

Emma chuckled. "Funny hearing that from the woman who wanted to read 50 Shades of Grey in the book club."

"That's different," Ella whined, "The book is a love story. Rumplestiltskin isn't capable of love. He probably get off on torturing her. Poor thing."

Ruby shook her head. "No, I meant that he was the one in the dog collar. It's always the guys who seem most powerful who actually like to be beat up in the bedroom."

"That is the most disturbing thing I've ever heard," Emma said.

Snow was on her third glass of sangria and seemed to be in her own world. "You know what Charming has always loved? When I put a blindfold on him and…"

"OK, well, we now have a new winner for the most disturbing thing," Emma grumbled.

And while everyone had their own thoughts on what must be going on between Belle and Rumplestiltskin, nobody could have possibly guessed the truth. Because while they had been practically attached at the hip since being reunited, living together, working together, and even sleeping in the same bed, they had not yet made love. Or fucked. Or done more than kissing and cuddling.

Even more surprising would have been the revelation that it wasn't innocent Belle who was behind this decision to live chastely, but Rumplestiltskin. At first he had claimed that Belle needed time to get accustomed to this new world and to the new person that he was, an amalgamation of her old master and Mr. Gold.

A month later, he said that they needed to wait and do things right. He'd proposed marriage, which she'd accepted immediately, but he was determined to wait until the wedding night to actually seal the deal.

"Fine," Belle had said, trying to tempt him into more with kisses along the side of his neck. "We'll just go to city hall tomorrow and get married."

But he wanted things to be perfect. Rumplestiltskin was the one who bought the bridal magazines and spent hours trying to decide if the wedding cake should have buttercream or cream cheese icing. Belle didn't need the piece of paper to make it official, and he didn't either. Not really. But he knew that the town still doubted him capable of love. And since they couldn't see how kind he was towards Belle, or the way he made sure that the kitchen always had her favorite foods and that the temperature was always to her liking in the house, he would have to show them with a giant ice sculpture and an open bar.

Belle thought the expense was a waste, and she hated this world's idea that you could prove love by the spending of enough money. But she did rather like the idea of a Honeymoon. And so she went along with his plans. Later on she would joke that he was a Bridezilla, but she didn't much care about the wedding day. It was the moments in the private cabana on the beach where they finally made love that she thought of as the true moment they became man and wife.


	6. Duels and Dancefloors

_Based in the Belle, Hook, and Rumple-verse_

"Come on Love," Hook said, picking up the blade that he'd knocked from Belle's hands moments earlier, "I know you can do this. It's no different from dancing."

From his spot on the sidelines Mr. Gold watched, gripping his cane to keep from throwing it. He didn't like Hook under the best of circumstances. Watching him flirt with Belle under the guise of teaching her the art of sword fighting was torture. Logically, he agreed with the pirate's contention that Belle needed to learn how to protect herself. Gold would have preferred her learning to shoot but Belle disliked guns. Besides, they didn't offer any help against magical creatures.

But a sword, like the light blue Runite Cutlass that Belle was currently wielding, would stand up against anything mundane or magical. As long as the girl could keep from dropping it. Or tripping. Or somehow doing both at the same time.

"Don't tease the girl," Rumplestiltskin grumbled. "Belle isn't a dancer." She is hardly able to walk across a room without tripping over her feet, but he wasn't going to say that out loud. She might be a klutz but she was his klutz.

Hook's smile, that annoyingly aristocratic smile he always wore, grew broader. "Love. Don't tell me that he doesn't know how stunning you are on a dance floor."

Tendrils of her thick auburn hair had fallen from her ponytail, and she tried to hide her blush behind them with her eyes looking down. "Not much opportunity for dancing these days," she whispered.

And not much chance with his bum knee, the fact that went unsaid in her statement. Hook tucked his good hand under her chin, forcing her too look up. "And in the old world? Don't tell me that you fell in love with the man without a single waltz together. Didn't your matron friends ever tell you the importance of knowing how a man dances? It is ever so helpful in divining other aspects of their nature."

The comment was one too many, but as the pirate always did when he went too far, he quickly recovered with more grace than a scoundrel should be allowed to have. He handed Belle her weapon back and asked her to go to starting position. He circled her, checking her posture and form. Gently he corrected the way she held her back, straightened her shoulders, and pushed on her arms to force her to hold her muscles tight. Satisfied, he then walked away and disappeared briefly, bringing back a stereo. He plucked the phone from his pocket and pressed some buttons until a song that Gold recognized as Por una Cabeza.

Picking up his own rapier, Hook bowed elegantly, as if asking her to dance. "Now, Love, it's just like back in Neverland when we would dance in the moonlight. Move with me, not against me, and when the moment is right you will know it."

As the sound of a lone violin ended and the rest of the orchestra joined in Hook stepped forward aggressively, but Belle was light as she dodged away. The circles one another, as if in a tango, him making occasional thrusts with the blade or his equally lethal hook, and Belle met each one handily.

Rumplestiltskin always found Belle to be lovely, even when she was down with the flu and wearing mismatched pajamas he thought her a vision, but as she dueled with Hook she transcended mere attractiveness. She was a revelation. Her blue eyes, usually filled with so much thought and contemplation, were still as is her mind was at peace finally. Her body seemed to be moving on its own, blocking attacks before they had even had a chance to be made. And as the song ended, with Belle knocking away Hook's scimitar and holding her own blade at his throat, Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure if he was aroused or jealous.

Or maybe a little of both.

Rumplestiltskin was silent on the ride home. It wasn't the comfortable silence that he and Belle usually shared, the one where they were content with just the presence of each other. This silence was dark and brooding, with teeth and talons.

She knew better than to try and force him into conversation. He would just be cynical and bitter which would just cause her to be upset instead of helpful. Besides, she knew him well enough to guess at what his problem was.

The idea of Rumplestiltskin being jealous was strange. He had magic, more than any other person in any world, and he could fell armies with a wave of his hand. And he had her. She loved him completely and unconditionally. Yet, he never seemed to be able to accept that truth. When she would chat with Jefferson or Jamie or even Henry he became all broody and possessive.

There was only one way to break him out of those moods.

"Rumplestiltskin," she said firmly. These things worked better if she slipped into the role quickly, she'd discovered, even if she was still unsure of what she was doing. "Draw me a bath. And use that rose scented bath bomb."

His dark eyes sparked to life even as he maintained a poker face. "Anything else, Belle?"

"Candles. No scent to those. And set up that pody thing to play some music. Something soft, and romantic. You may choose." She placed her hand on the side of his face, leaning in so that they were sharing the same breath. "And don't call me Belle for the rest of the evening."

He wanted to kiss her, she could tell by the way his eyes looked longingly at her lips. He'd get a chance. Eventually. And he'd beg for the privilege. Because no matter how much Belle tried to convince him that he had no need to be jealous of anyone, he only seemed to believe her when she would take control. He bowed slightly as he went to obey, his mouth saying the only thing he would be allowed to utter for the rest of the evening.

"Yes, Mistress."


	7. Star-Crossed

It wasn't intentional.

The Gold's named their daughter Beatrice as a way to honor his lost son, the one who had to give up his life in order to save them all. They were only reunited briefly, just long enough for the boy and his father to make amends and for him to learn about the baby sister who was on the way. Rumplestiltskin was about to go through the portal claiming that it was time for him to pay the price for the magic he'd unleashed into the world. Bae had pushed him out of the way and taken his place.

"You're needed here Papa," he said with his final words. "I won't be responsible for a child growing up without her father."

The Charming's had chosen the name Benedick because it meant Blessed, and the baby boy was a blessing to them. Before Snow had defeated Regina her former step-mother ran her through with a sword. Two doctors, one a dwarf and the other Whale, said that she'd never have another child. Benedick had been an unexpected gift.

It wasn't until years later that Belle even realized the connection between the children's names and the play in this world featuring a perfect pair of bickering lovers. It wasn't intentional, but it ended up being prescient..


	8. The Nanny and the Writer

_Nanny-verse, Nanny Belle meets August_

August W. Booth wasn't a writer. It was just another lie stacked on top of the multitude of others. But writers were respected. People thought the ability to make up the right words to be a type of magic and so he pretended to be one.

After all, if you're going to lie you might as well make yourself seem smart in the process.

He'd noticed Anna French when he first rolled into town. Sure, his focus was on the savior. And this world's incarnation of Red was certainly something to see. But the nanny was quite attractive, in a sweet and innocent way that made him think of how easy she would be to manipulate into bed. Girls like that were such a treat. Sure, they took more effort than the ones like Ruby but they were all the sweeter for it.

The fact that Rumplestiltskin obviously had a thing for the girl didn't dissuade him. In fact, it made it even better.

The trickster was in the corner of the diner, pushing at his eggs while watching Anna reading Eat, Pray, Love.

"You know," the former puppet sad, sidling up to Anna, "I've been to India before. Working on a story for NatGeo. That's National Geographic magazine."

"Really?" she said, looking up from her book. She had the most beautiful blue eyes and for a moment he considered telling the truth. Then his eyes darted down to her other attributes and the lie spilled out of him.

"Yep. I was doing and article on lemurs and when you're there with those animals…"

"I thought lemurs were native to Madagascar?"

August nodded. "Yes. They are. Which is why these Indian lemurs were so noteworthy."

Anna placed her bookmark between the pages and closed the cover. August gave her his best smile but it only seemed to annoy her. It made sense that the girl was a nanny, because she was doing a job of making him feel like a bad boy. And not in the good way.

"What type of lemurs were these? Ring-tailed? Red slender? Slant Footed?"

"Slant footed," August said with a smile.

"That's what I thought, since that was the one I made up." She stood up, placing a ten dollar bill on the counter. "Haven't you ever heard that honesty is the best policy? I mean, you seemed like a very interesting man until you had to lie."

Gold left the diner a moment after her, not bothering to hide the mirth on his face. Maybe this would be a wake up call, August thought. Maybe it was time to just be honest. If he'd been honest all along he wouldn't be in this trouble in the first place.

"I want to hear about the lemurs," Ruby said, seductively.

Honesty could wait for another day.


	9. A Father Again

Belle had insisted on a homebirth. She wanted their daughter to be born in a place of love, not the place where Belle had been trapped for almost 30 years, and he had eventually given in after making sure that it would be safe. Granny was the midwife with Doc assisting and an ambulance waiting outside in the event that something went wrong. But things had been perfect, and after a ten hour labor ("quick" Granny had called it, even as Rumplestiltskin had thought it an eternity) Belle was in their bed holding little Beatrice Gold.

He'd dismissed the ambulance and shooed away all the visitors except family. Maurice was upstairs meeting his granddaughter while Rumplestiltskin shared a drink with his son. "How's it feel," Bae asked, "to be a Dad again?"

"Terrifying. I think I liked it better in the old world, when the women would give birth behind a locked door while the men were getting drunk. I hated seeing Belle in pain and not being able to help."

Bae put a hand on his father's shoulder. "You wouldn't have it any other way. I wish I could have been there for Emma when Henry was born."

The silence between them was loud, filled with regret and apologies. "You're doing your best now," Rumplestiltskin said. "That's what's important."

"Yes," Bae agreed, "That's what a son really wants from a father. Not perfection, but just their best."


End file.
